The Party
by abombinallsnowman
Summary: Sherlock and John have what they need and are now on their way to the party


The walk back to Baker Street was a little bit if a blur. Sherlock would stay close to John, trying to stay warm in the rain. Sherlock just ended up sticking his arm in his coat, that John was wearing, and loop his arm around John's waist.  
When they stop outside, they look at each other. "Um. . .are we going to tell them. . .about us?" John asks.  
"Not yet. Soon, though." Sherlock bends down to John's ear. "I want to keep you for myself for now."  
John turns red. "Then, uh, do you want your coat?"  
Sherlock is still inches from John, hand on waist. It would be obvious that they're a couple to anyone walking by, but the people that matter were already inside, since they were about half an hour late. "Yes. But don't worry, you can have it back after the party."  
John turns more red as he slips off the coat and hands it to Sherlock.  
Sherlock lets go of John, putting on his coat. "Shall we?"  
John gives a nod, getting less red. They walk in and knock on Mrs. Hudson's door as they shake their hair out.  
The door opens and Mrs. Hudson's face pops up. "Oh! You boys are wet. Stop standing there and come inside. What have you been doing, anyway?" John holds up the bag as they enter.  
"Oh, you didn't have to."  
John puts it down next to the other gifts she got.  
They look around and see a few people they know: Lestrade, Molly, Sarah, Sally, and even Anderson. The rest of the people look around Mrs. Hudson's age. There are about thirty to forty people here.  
Sherlock slips away. When John notices, he looks around, but figures he just went to go and talk to some of Mrs. Hudson's friends. Well, more like interrogate them, but whatever.  
John walks up to Lestrade, whose talking to Molly. They're talking about their childhood and where they grew up and how many pets they had.  
"Hi." John says.  
Molly and Lestrade look at him. "Hey, where's Sherlock?" Lestrade asks.  
John turns his head around, scanning the people. "Um. . .I don't know." He says as he turns back to face them.  
Lestrade nods.  
"So, uh. . .how's work?" Molly asks John.  
Good, good. It's, uh. . .good. I'm going to get some punch. Either of you want anything?"  
They shake their heads and John turns to get punch.  
When he gets to the table, he looks at everything. There's mini sandwiches, cheese and crackers, biscuits, a fruit platter, scones, and punch. The punch is at the back of the table, so John picks up a cup, leans over, making his shirt ride up a little, and he grabs the large spoon, slowly mixing the punch a little.  
He feels a finger on his lower back. And it's wet. He gets a shiver up his spine as he drops the spoon back in the bowl. and turns around.  
Sherlock is looking at him, a smirk on his lips.  
"What are you doing? And where were you?" John asks.  
"Nothing," Sherlock responds. "I've just been around. We don't need to stay near each other all the time."  
"Yeah. . .but I mean, why'd you slide your wet finger on me?"  
Sherlock justs smiles. Then he's gone, out in the crowd; John tries to watch where he goes, but he loses track of him. He turns back to get his punch.  
If Sherlock wants to play this game, so will John.

They've been at the party for about twenty minutes. Talking to Mrs. Hudson's friends about his work as a doctor most of the time.  
So far, Sherlock is winning their game. They're not really keeping points, but it's obvious that Sherlock sneaks up on him, touches him, more than John can catch him.  
John would think that it would be easier to find Sherlock than he can, but no, he keeps searching.  
John keeps looking, and he finally sees Sherlock talking to a few of Mrs. Hudson's friends.  
He slowly walks toward him, trying to not attract attention and hoping Sherlock won't turn around.  
He goes right up behind Sherlock and looks around; no one is looking at him. He grabs Sherlock's arse and gives it a squeeze.  
He lets go as Sherlock quickly spins around. John sees that his face is red. "So now we're playing that game. Get ready."  
Sherlock turns back around as John trudges off in the other direction. What Sherlock was referring to, John has no idea.

John found out what game they're playing.  
After about ten minutes, Sherlock has grabbed John's butt about four times. Each time John goes red and turns to see Sherlock smiling at him.  
John spots Sherlock, talking to a few people. He's about to sneak up on him when Mrs. Hudson clinks a fork to her glass. Everyone turns and looks at her, becoming quiet.  
John is only a few feet away from Sherlock, who sees John and looks smug that John didn't get him in time.  
"Alright, I'm so happy all of you could make it. Thank you for everything. I'm so lucky to have all of you as friends." She looks around at everybody. "This party is becoming boring quickly, don't you think? Well, I thought ahead and bought some booze for us all. Go crazy!"  
There was a cheer and most people rushed to the kitchen.  
John looks over at Sherlock, who looks as confused as John. John laughs. "Did you ever think she'd be the drinker?"  
Sherlock looks at him and smiles. "Never."  
As people return, red plastic cup in hand, John goes into the kitchen.  
As he pours beer into a cup, he hears some music playing. Not oldies, but a little like club music, except there's no lyrics.  
The music gets louder as he enters the room and goes back to where he was. When he gets there, he notices that Sherlock isn't there. He looks around, but doesn't see him.  
He's standing in the same spot, watching people dance with his cup, now half full, when Sherlock comes back with a cup in his hand.  
John very slowly inches closer to Sherlock, making sure he doesn't notice. Sherlock is looking around at the crowd, taking small sips out of his cup at times.  
John slowly reaches around and grabs Sherlock's arse. He saw Sherlock jump in surprise and grow a little red as he turns to John. John smiles at him.  
Sherlock leaves. John finishes off his drink and goes to get another one.  
When he goes back, he decides not to be in the same spot; so he goes into the crowd of dancing people.  
It seems everyone is in the crowd. John thinks as he squeezes through a group of people. There were a few people in the kitchen, and a few are around the table, but everyone else is in the crowd. He even sees Mrs. Hudson dancing around her friends, the center of attention. And John would be lying if he said Mrs. Hudson was a bad dancer.  
John starts to feel a little tipsy as he starts to finish off his second drink.  
He's always had a little problem with drinking. Harry, his sister, was the first one to notice his problem. His problem is he doesn't know when to stop drinking, and he gets drunk faster than others. He used to drink more, but now he mostly does it to celebrate. Like today; Mrs. Hudson's birthday.  
Lestrade appears in front of John. "Hey, having a good time?"  
"Yeah, you?"  
Lestrade nods. He looks into John's cup. "Oh, it's empty, here, take mine."  
Before John can protest, Lestrade has swapped cups and is leaving John with an almost full cup in his hand. He takes small sips.  
He sees the people around him get more into it as the more drunk they get. Or it might just be him, getting more drunk. Maybe both.  
John feels hands on his hips. Feather-light. He feels warmth behind him, inviting him. He leans back into the familiar warmth.  
"People won't notice, too wrapped up in their own worlds. And with that, Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist, breathing over his shoulder.  
John can smell the alcohol on Sherlock's breath; or it's just his own breath he's smelling. He doesn't care enough to ask him, he just rocks back and forth with Sherlock, not caring they aren't moving with the fast-paced beat.  
"How many have you had?"  
John holds up his cup. "Third."  
"Mmm." And with that, the warmth suddenly leaves and John looks around for Sherlock, but he doesn't see him. He goes back to dancing.  
John can't tell how long he was dancing. But long enough for him to finish off his drink.  
He gets so caught up in dancing that he starts grinding against someone behind him. The person behind him stiffens for a moment, then gets into it and starts grinding with John.  
After a few moments, John feels hands on his hips. Those hands travel under his shirt, splaying across his stomach. The hands are a little cold, but John doesn't care. He grinds harder against the person and feels something. The stranger is a man and he has an erection.  
John flips around, facing the man, and the hands are now on his lower back, pulling him closer.  
Before John can process anything, he feels lips on his, desperate and tasteful. It's only when the man's tongue is in his mouth that he realizes it's Sherlock who's kissing him. John relaxes into him.  
John pulls away and looks at Sherlock. The lust and want in Sherlock's eyes go straight to his groin.  
John wants Sherlock. He wants to own Sherlock; to devour him, again and again, until he's gone, until John's gone. And that scares him so much.  
Sherlock is pulling him before John notices and they're outside the crowd. Sherlock has John's hand as he's pulled out the door.  
They mount the stairs and John almost trips, but Sherlock catches him.  
He flings open the door to their flat and closes it behind John.  
Sherlock takes off his coat and drapes it over John's shoulders, admiring the way it looks on him, and then Sherlock is pushing John against the door in a passionate kiss. John doesn't think he can stand up any longer, but it's not a problem since Sherlock's against him, holding him to the door as their erections rub against each other.  
John puts his arms around Sherlock's neck, pushing himself up. "Can we move this to the couch?" John asks against Sherlock's mouth.  
John feels hands grab the back of his thighs, picking him up. John marvels in how strong Sherlock is and not giving him credit for it. Their lips never leave each other as John is lifted from the door and moved to the couch, the coat splays out underneath John as he's lowered to the couch, Sherlock on top.  
Sherlock's hands go under John's shirt, pulling it up as Sherlock kisses his exposed skin, moving up.  
John lifts his arms as Sherlock pulls off his shirt.  
Sherlock's knees are on the outside of John's thighs, locking them in place, and his hands are on the sides of John's head.  
John uses his hands to tug off Sherlock's trousers as Sherlock sucks on John's neck.  
John sighs. "L-lube."  
Sherlock pauses, then he straightens his arms and gets up. As he walks to his room, he pushes off his pants the rest of the way and leaves them on the floor, letting John stare at his arse. John uses the time to pull off his own pants and leave them at the end of the couch.  
Sherlock comes trotting back to the couch as John lays down.  
As Sherlock comes into view of John on the couch, he is immediately on top of him, the same position as before. "You're so beautiful." Sherlock says as he's kissing John's jaw.  
John smiles as he starts tugging off Sherlock's shirt. "You're the one with perfect curls and cheekbones."  
Sherlock smiles and John takes off his shirt, dropping it on the floor.  
John slides his hands over Sherlock's back as Sherlock grabs the lube, spreading it over his fingers. He rubs his hand over their pricks.  
John moves his hands down and grabs Sherlock's arse. Sherlock gives a moan. John flips them, making them fall with a thud onto the floor in a tangled heap, now Sherlock's on bottom.  
John attacks Sherlock, running his hands through Sherlock's hair and kissing wherever his mouth goes.  
Sherlock moves his hand that's coated with lube to circle around John's hole. John moans against Sherlock's skin as he inserts a finger into John.  
John bites Sherlock's shoulder as Sherlock circles his finger around, sometimes brushing his prostate.  
"N-n-now." John whines, licking where he just bit Sherlock.  
Sherlock extracts his finger and puts his hands on John's hips, angling him.  
John lifts his hips up, slowly lowering himself down onto Sherlock. He runs his thumb over Sherlock's cheekbone, tracing over his smooth skin. Sherlock moves his hands up around John's neck and pulls him down into a kiss.  
John twists his fingers around Sherlock's curls as he thrusts himself against Sherlock.  
Sherlock gets into the same pattern of thrusts as John moans into his mouth.  
They've been doing this for a couple months now; after living together for about four months, John decided he would make the first move. He decided to kiss Sherlock right before John went out to get the groceries. Sherlock didn't respond for a week; but when he did, he chose to kiss John, and that night they had the best sex John had ever had. And it was Sherlock's first time.  
Sherlock moves his hand down and wraps his long, thin fingers around John's cock, making him moan as he starts to pump up and down.  
John moves his head and lays it on Sherlock's shoulder, panting against his skin in the same quick, short rhythm as their thrusts.  
"J-John. I'm. Going. To. Come." Sherlock said with each thrust.  
John lifts his head in front of Sherlock's, putting his hands on the sides of Sherlock's head, moving faster, close to coming himself.  
Sherlock keeps making his delicious moans into John's ear. John bites down on Sherlock's neck, trying not to make too loud moans.  
"JOHN!" Sherlock shouts as he comes hard in John. John moves faster, riding out his orgasm.

"Sherlock!" John moans as he comes all over Sherlock's chest. Sherlock licks his lips, getting the splatter of cum on his bottom lip.  
John collapses on Sherlock and they roll onto their sides, facing each other as they snake their arms lazily around each other. Not caring enough to get cleaned off, smelling in what they just did.  
Sherlock extracts himself out of John as pant, breathing in each other's air.  
They slowly drift off. Right before John falls asleep, though, he thinks I love you.  
Sherlock goes rigid all over and John realizes he said the words out loud. All he can do is keep his eyes shut and wait since it's the first time either of them had said it. But John meant what he said.  
John gasps as Sherlock tightens his embrace, holding onto him as though John's going to disappear right in front of him.  
"Me too. Always and forever." And with that, they drifted off to sleep.

*** Epilogue ***

****Six months later, John and Sherlock are newly wed. Happy and in deep, unforgettable love. Always and forever.


End file.
